


Any Cosmo Girl

by ladyphlogiston



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Legally Blonde (Movies)
Genre: Crack, Death of Voldemort, F/M, Gen, Harry isn't the Chosen One, His Dark Lordship's manicure set, Honeymoon, Kidnapping, Rare Crossover, Rare Fandoms, The rules of hair care are simple and finite, dark rituals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21809533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyphlogiston/pseuds/ladyphlogiston
Summary: The one where Elle Woods kills Voldemort. Because someone had to write it.
Relationships: Emmett Forrest/Elle Woods
Comments: 20
Kudos: 195
Collections: BL favorites, Best crossovers, karabelle’s fave shortfic





	Any Cosmo Girl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sophibug](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophibug/gifts).



> This isn't the only Legally Blonde x Harry Potter story, but it's one of very few. I'm quite pleased about that. 
> 
> You'll have to be a little flexible about the Harry Potter timeline - this takes place in a nebulous time where the situation is pretty much as it was in seventh year and has been for some time. It is after the events of Legally Blonde.

What no one remembered, not Voldemort, not Dumbledore, not anyone, is that defiance doesn't require specific action. Some people defied the Dark Lord every day, by fighting against him and his ideas. Some people defied him continuously, just by existing.

If the Dark Lord had cast his mind back, to before he was Voldemort and before he was Head Boy and before he was Heir of Slytherin, he might remember two sweethearts in a cave. He had brought them there and ordered them to cut and hit each other, just for the fun of it. He had his way eventually, and they left that place broken and crying, but each of them had refused three times. Exactly three times.

If the Dark Lord had tracked any of his former fellow orphans, he might have known that their shared trauma brought these two sweethearts together, making them stronger instead of weaker. He might have known that they moved to America, first to New York and then to California, and that they married and had three children, and those children married and had children of their own. They did well. Very well.

And on the same night that a black-haired baby in England stared up at his mother with green eyes that reflected hers, another baby was born in California. This baby was a girl, with blue eyes and blonde hair.

Welcome to the world, Elle Woods.

\-----

_years later, in London_

"Okay, Bruiser, I have to go! I have to get dressed for dinner! Mommy loves you so much!" Elle blew a kiss to the tablet she was using to video chat with her dog, then ended the call.

Elle sighed. Emmett came up and hugged her against him. "Bruiser is fine, Elle. Paulette is taking excellent care of him."

Elle nodded. "I know. And it's our honeymoon. But I do miss him."

"Of course you do." Emmett kissed Elle and smiled down at her. "Now, what are you wearing to Momo? You said the red and gold decor won't match your signature pink."

Elle sighed happily. Emmett wasn't particularly interested in fashion, but she loved that he remembered what she said and indulged her passion. "I mean really, the right pink can match anything. But I don't _have_ to wear pink, muffin. I was thinking white and navy. Momo uses diffused gold lighting, so white just glows."

Emmett opened his own closet. "Now, I know it's too matchy-matchy if I wear navy too. I could wear....this one is slate blue, right?"

Elle squealed and kissed him. "That's perfect!"

"I learned from the best," Emmett said, grinning down at her, and kissed her back.

\-----

They were leaving Momo when it happened. There was a rush of air and the sky went dark and the world went away. The next minutes were a confusing jumble of lights and harsh voices and stinging pain and unconsciousness.

When they came to, they found themselves in a dungeon - an actual dungeon, with stone walls and chains and things - being confronted by several people wearing black robes and pointing sticks at them. A heavyset man turned to the man in the center, who was tall and thin-faced. "Well, Rookwood," he asked, "what do you think?"

"What's going on? Where is this?" Emmett demanded, climbing to his feet. Elle looked around, wide-eyed, and gasped for breath.

"Silence, muggles!" said Rookwood. He waved his stick and they found themselves frozen in place and unable to move. He stepped forward and waved the magic wand over Elle in a complicated figure eight pattern.

The tall man turned back to the heavyset one. "An excellent find, Crabbe, this female will do nicely." He conjured chairs and put Emmett and Elle in them, with ropes to hold them in place.

"Now, muggles," he sneered. "The Dark Lord has need of a female for a ritual to strengthen himself and his followers. You, female, will participate in this ritual. You can ask for no better use of your meaningless life than this."

He began pacing. "In order to prepare for the ritual, you will serve the Dark Lord for the next seven days. You will serve his food, robe him, bathe him, and perform any other tasks he requires of you. As incentive...." he broke off, studying Emmett intensely. "Most of my colleagues would simply use a Crucio or two at this point, but I've been studying a rather curious curse from the Forbidden Library, and I think I might try it here."

He flourished his wand at Emmett and shouted "Laetropa Opthemia!" A sickly orange light flashed out and hit Emmett in the face, and Emmett cried out.

"Silencio!" the man said, waving his wand at Emmett again. Emmett became silent, although he was clearly trying to talk. Elle watched with wide eyes, too scared to speak.

"Your husband is now blind," the man informed Elle. "As it stands, we can remove the blindness whenever we like. But every time he is exposed to light, it will cause him tremendous pain. If the light is bright enough or long enough, it will damage his eyes so that he will never see again, and the pain will be permanent until it drives him mad. Do you understand?"

Elle swallowed, and nodded slowly.

"So you will serve the Dark Lord, as we require of you?"

Elle swallowed again. "Okay," she said, her voice shaking. "I'll do it."

\-----

For the first two days, Elle was too frightened to do anything. She was introduced to the Dark Lord, who could not possibly be human. She did as she was ordered: bathing him, robing him, serving his meals, cleaning up blood stains. She averted her eyes from the scenes of torture that unfolded before her, and she kept her head down.

On the third day, her natural buoyancy reasserted itself. She began with a comment about the dramatic color palette he'd chosen for his organization, and when he seemed amused rather than angry, she asked to be introduced to his pet snake. Cooing over Nagini made her miss Bruiser more than ever, but she did it anyway. After that she began to talk more, commenting on the robes and hairstyles and whatever other light-hearted conversational topics she could find.

She also kept her wits about her and started taking mental notes. The Dark Lord spent some time in the throne room, but most of the time Elle served him in the two private rooms connected to it. The first room was a study, with bookshelves and a desk and a large fireplace. Occasionally a person arrived or left through the fireplace, so she watched very closely to see how it was done.

The Dark Lord's inner room was a bedroom suite, with a bed and a large bath and a wardrobe. Standing screens shielded the inside from the doorway. It was always freezing cold in the bedroom.

The Dark Lord wore black robes, but under the robes he wore long shifts made out of fine silk. His skin was sensitive, and even rubbed raw in places. Elle gathered that he expected the ritual she was to be a sacrifice in would fix that somehow. (No one had said she was to be sacrificed, but Elle wasn't stupid. Neither of them were leaving here alive unless she found a way out.) The Dark Lord ate surprisingly mundane food, though she did notice he ate a lot of meat. He laughed at her when she suggested he eat more vegetables to reduce his cholesterol intake. She even offered to give the chef the recipe for her favorite detox green smoothie.

Every afternoon she was marched down to see Emmett, though they brought a light as well so that she only saw him crying out in pain. Still, it was a slight comfort to be able to see him and tell him she was safe.

\----

"Where is his Dark Lordship's manicure set?" Elle asked on the morning of the fourth day.

"His what?" The black-robed man who had escorted her stopped dead, glaring at her. This one was big and burly, with tangled greasy hair that she longed to wash and comb out.

"His manicure set," she repeated, making her eyes as wide as she could. "He has such beautiful hands, but everyone needs to take time for maintenance."

The black-robed man growled and shoved her through the door into the Dark Lord's study. "This muggle has the impudence to ask for a manicure set," he sneered, clearly hoping the Dark Lord would punish her.

"A manicure set?" the Dark Lord asked her.

Elle repeated her explanation, smiling innocently.

The Dark Lord mulled it over. "Get her what she requires," he finally commanded. "Her willing service will make the ritual stronger."

"Thank you, your Dark Lordship," Elle said, beginning to serve the breakfast. "That talon nail shape is such a dramatic choice, and it'll look even better with a little smoothing and shaping. I remember my friend Samantha wore her nails like that for Homecoming, and they looked fabulous until they snagged on the silk gossamer overskirt of her dress and tore off a cluster of sequins! There was really nothing to be done, as the gossamer was far too thin to support patching, but thankfully I don't think her date ever noticed. That was Chuck Wesley, who later dated....." Elle didn't think the Dark Lord was listening, but he didn't stop her, so she chattered on.

Near the end of breakfast, the large black-robed man from before came in and prostrated himself. "My Lord," he stammered, "Malfoy invites you and your muggle to make whatever use of his family's personal care supplies you wish, but we cannot identify which items are required for this manicure set, and Lady Malfoy is in Italy and cannot advise us. I could ask my wife to come, but...." he broke off, screaming, as the Dark Lord hit him with punishing magic.

"Escort the muggle to the supplies, fool, and allow her to make her selection," the Dark Lord ordered him. "If she needs items not present, acquire them for her."

Elle quickly cleared the plates while the man stammered his apologies, then followed him through the halls. She hadn't been to this part of the manor before, and found it lighter and more elegant than the Dark Lord's rooms. She would have preferred a softer and more colorful style, but she could appreciate the distinguished elegance of the white marble halls and carefully curated artwork.

Eventually he stopped at a door and opened it for Elle. She stepped through into what appeared to be a well-appointed private spa. A giant white marble bathtub stood under the right-hand window, and a large set of mirrors stood against the far wall. The chairs were upholstered in wine-colored velvet, and soft pink curtains separated and defined the space.

Elle turned to the shelves that lined the left-hand wall, and found that the containers were totally unfamiliar to her. The products were all in elegant glass bottles, several of them with shimmering or scintillating colors, with names like Madame de la Droiturière's Hair Shining Potion and The Chevalier's Refiner.

Elle took a deep breath and turned back to the black-robed man. "Your products are unfamiliar to me, but I'm sure I'll manage. It'll just take me a few minutes."

He grunted and turned away, leaning against the doorframe to stare out at the wall.

Elle turned back to the shelves. This would be easier if she could take notes, but she'd manage. She started methodically taking down each bottle and reading the label and the directions. The top shelf appeared to be skin care, and she mentally cataloged the lotions and toners and essences. It wouldn't be hard to put together a facial, if she wanted.

The second and third shelves were hair products. Cleansers, smoothers, serums, conditioners. She paused, re-reading the directions for Révélation Relaxing Liniment. Frowning, she opened the lid and sniffed the contents. Well, that was interesting.

Sniffing several of the other bottles from the Révélation line confirmed her discovery. She replaced the bottles and moved on to the next shelf.

The next shelf was hand and nail care. Elle examined the bottles and tools with the same care, and selected what she would need for a manicure.

"Excuse me!" she called out. "Could I have a tray or something to carry things?"

The black-robed man grunted and waved his wand, conjuring a silver tray. She quickly laid out towels, lotions, oils, trimmers, smoothers, and buffers and declared herself ready to go.

Back at the Dark Lord's rooms, they had to wait while he spoke with more people in black robes. Honestly, the black was fine for a dramatic background, but they really needed to add a few distinctive accessories to punch up the look.

As the others filed out, the Dark Lord looked at Elle. "You are ready for this manicure, muggle?" he asked.

Elle stepped forward. "I am, your Dark Lordship. I would like that side table to be pulled forward, and I'll need a dish of warm water."

The black-robed man made the necessary arrangements and then left, grunting in response to Elle's request that they not be disturbed.

Elle spread a towel over the table and arranged everything on top of it. She reached for the Dark Lord's hand and drew it forward. "Spill," she ordered.

The Dark Lord frowned and pulled back. "Spill what?" he asked.

Elle grabbed his hand again. "You know, spill! A manicure is a sacred time and space for confession and sympathy. It's an ancient tradition: you can tell me anything, and it's my job to listen and sympathize." She sighed, thinking of Paulette and the first time they had met, and how much she had appreciated a listening ear that day.

Elle's head suddenly hurt, and she winced, but continued to trim and shape the Dark Lord's nails. It passed almost immediately.

"What do you suggest I talk about?" the Dark Lord asked.

Elle thought back to what she had heard of the briefing just before. "You sounded pretty mad about those Weasleys. Did they do something to upset you?"

"The Weasleys have been a thorn in my side for decades," the Dark Lord snarled. Elle shook his hand gently to get him to relax again. "Most recently, two of the younger spawn, proprietors of a store called Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes, have come out with a prank product called Moldy Shorts, a clear mockery of my name."

"That's so mean of them!" Elle exclaimed, privately wondering what the Dark Lord's name actually was. Nobody had told her. "I remember in high school when Amy put up posters everywhere calling me 'Elle Good-Wood'!"

"I intend to teach them a lesson, but unfortunately I must do so strategically," the Dark Lord explained. "Their wards are unusually strong. But I will surely destroy them shortly."

Elle finished the hand she was working on. "Now you have to soak this hand in the warm water while I work on the other. I'm afraid you'll have to put your wand down, but you can put it right there on the table."

The Dark Lord followed her instructions without comment. "I am also glad to punish the entire family. The broodmare is an unusually skilled fighter who cost me many good Death Eaters back in the day. And all of the others have made themselves odious, in one way or another."

Elle nodded sympathetically and continued her work.

\-----

Elle was expected to clean the Dark Lord's robes before she went to sleep at night. Working carefully so that no one would see or hear her, she managed that night to chop a set of robes to be a foot shorter. Emmett wasn't that much shorter than the Dark Lord, but Elle knew she'd never be able to wear his robes herself without tripping on them. She trembled a little as she hung them back up in the wardrobe, but nobody seemed to notice.

\-----

"I wonder if your Dark Lordship would like a facial," Elle said the next day. This was it. Either she'd succeed or she'd fail.

The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes at her. "What muggle nonsense is a facial?"

"It's a treatment to restore and strengthen the skin of your face and neck," Elle explained, widening her eyes and batting her lashes. "You would lie down, and I would apply a series of cleansers and lotions to leave your skin stronger and clearer."

"You would willingly work to strengthen my skin?" the Dark Lord asked.

"Mm-hm," Elle replied, nodding firmly.

The Dark Lord seemed to be thinking hard. "That....would immensely strengthen the ritual. Magic works on intent, after all."

"So we'll do it?" Elle asked, smiling brightly.

"We shall." The Dark Lord waved her away. "Collect what you need and come back in an hour."

An hour later, Elle was arranging her spa setup. Her black-robed guard for the day (this one a red-haired wild-looking woman) had attended to Elle's requirements: a firm, narrow bed, fruity drinks, soft music, and complete privacy. Nagini had eaten someone the day before and was sleeping in the throne room, so Elle didn't have to worry about her. She hummed a little song to calm her beating heart as she laid out soft brushes and cloths, cleansers, lotions, and of course, Révélation Relaxing Liniment.

The Dark Lord came in and lay down. Elle covered him with a silken sheet, and arranged the lotion-soaked towels under his hands.

"You can't hold your wand for this part, but I'll put it right over here," she said, carefully placing the wand just out of his reach and wrapping the towels around his hands. "Also I should warn you that certain steps in a facial sting a little, but that just means they're working."

"Pain means nothing to me," replied the Dark Lord.

Elle agreed and started the facial. The familiar steps soothed her: cleanse, massage, tone, cleanse again. Finally, she picked up a large brush and began spreading on the Révélation Relaxing Liniment.

The Dark Lord stiffened. "What is this? It burns!" he cried.

"Oh hush, it's not that bad," Elle chided him. "I warned you it stings a little. Hundreds of women use this every day, to strengthen and smooth their skin."

The Dark Lord growled and set his teeth, determined not to be bothered by something that muggles did voluntarily.

Elle held her fingers just above the surface of the paste. It was starting to heat up, and she could see redness at the edges of the paste. Good. She added more, focusing on his eyes, mouth, and neck.

"Hmm, you do seem to be reacting a little strongly to it," she murmured. "I'll just go get some cool water, shall I?"

Elle slipped the Dark Lord's wand into her sleeve and went into the study. She slapped herself several times, and poked herself in the eyes to make herself tear up. She opened the door, to find her black-robed guard waiting outside.

"Th-the D-dark Lord says you're to bring Emmett up!" she said, pretending to be crying.

The guard smirked and departed.

Elle went back to the bedroom and quietly extracted two robes, one of them the shortened set, from the wardrobe. The Dark Lord was writhing and making strange groaning noises as his throat collapsed, but she hardened her heart and left him to put on her shortened robes in the study.

A minute later, the black-robed guard shoved Emmett through the door. Elle immediately shut the door behind him, and ran to help him up.

"Elle?" he asked.

"Shh, yes, it's me. Don't ask questions, just do what I say." Elle tied a towel around his head to protect his cursed eyes from the light, and then helped him into the other set of robes.

Elle tugged Emmett towards the fireplace, and lifted the pot down from the mantel. She threw a little of the glittering powder inside, as she'd seen the black-robed people do, and shouted "Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes!" hoping it would work. She'd seen people depart for "the Hog's Head" and "Borgin and Burkes" but she wasn't sure what sort of reception might await them there. If she could get to the Weasleys, she'd be away from the Dark Lord's followers.

Thankfully the green flames flared up on cue, so she dragged Emmett into the fireplace with her. For a minute they were spinning through smoky darkness, and then they stumbled forward into bright light, only to be captured again by a giant net made of sticky purple threads.

"Help us!" she shouted, trying to look around. "We were kidnapped!" She couldn't make sense of what she saw, but she got an impression of bright lights and brilliant colors and constant noise. It was rather like a brightly-lit arcade.

The net gave way suddenly, and they tumbled to the ground at the feet of two red-haired men wearing bright magenta robes. Elle struggled to catch her breath and sit up. "Thank you," she gasped, "can you fix him?"

"What's wrong with him?" asked one of the men, stooping to poke at the towel with his wand.

"We were taken prisoners, and they did magic on his eyes," Elle explained.

"The words were Laetropa Opthemia, and he said it was a curse from the Forbidden Library," Emmett interjected.

The red-haired men exchanged glances. "You'd better send an owl to Bill, Gred," said one.

"Right-ho, Forge," replied the other, and walked off towards the desk.

Forge turned back to Elle and Emmett. "Bill's our brother. He'll fix you up. In the meantime, why don't you both come back to the staff room and have a cup of tea?"

"Thank you," Elle said again, accepting his hand to help her up and then turning to help Emmett. "I'm Elle, and this is my husband Emmett."

"Fred Weasley, at your service," the man replied, "Right this way."

They were passing a display of the famous Moldy-Shorts when a wizard in dull blue robes suddenly screamed. They all stopped and looked over to see him pull up his sleeve and stare in horror at a skull tattoo that faded from black to gray to nothing.

"Stupefy," said Fred, and a red light shot out of his wand and hit the man in blue robes, who collapsed in a heap. Fred stepped over to look at the fading tattoo. "Merlin!" he breathed.

"What is that?" Elle asked.

Fred looked up at her, apparently stunned. "You Know Who is dead!"

"Who?" Elle asked, wrinkling her brow. Seriously, was she doomed to never know anyone's name in this place?

Fred blinked at her. "Voldemort?" he prompted.

Elle glanced at the Moldy-Shorts display, and her eyes widened. "You mean the Dark Lord?"

"Yes, the Dark Lord," Fred replied, though he looked a little nervous.

"Oh." Elle looked thoughtfully at the unconscious man. "Huh. That might have been my fault."

"Your fault? What did you do?"

"Well, it turns out that some of the high-end magical cosmetics used by Lady Malfoy are repackaged normal cosmetics," Elle explained, feeling more confident now. "I recognized them immediately. I'm afraid you're really not supposed to use professional-grade hair relaxer in a facial."

Emmett chuckled tiredly. "Let me guess, Elle," he said, shaking his head, "'any Cosmo girl would have known'?"

**Author's Note:**

> Answers to a few obvious questions:
> 
> Hair relaxer? Really? 
> 
> Hair relaxer really does contain sodium hydroxide (lye) and really can give chemical burns if used unwisely. Before the story started, Voldemort had been hit by a lucky shot that destabilized his skin (which is why he wants to do the ritual in the first place) and that allowed the relaxer to be more dangerous than usual. And/or I'm exaggerating the effects, because, you know, fanfiction.
> 
> What about the Horcruxes? 
> 
> Either a) there aren't any in this story, or b) Harry and the others have already gotten all the others. Except Nagini, of course, but when the Dark Lord was found dead someone killed Nagini before she could wake up and start eating people. 
> 
> Why didn't Voldemort legilimize Elle? 
> 
> Mostly he underestimated her. But also he didn't want to risk damaging her mind and missing the ritual window. 
> 
> What was "the power he knows not"? 
> 
> Hair care knowledge, naturally. Because the Dark Lord doesn't have hair.


End file.
